These pictures were taken on a winter's day when instead of tidying the house as planned we wedged bodyboards in our armpits and trekked out to hurtle ourselves down a bumpy snowy field. Then we came home with cold wet limbs, dramatising our bruises into near death experiences while the espresso pot bubbled on a dirty hob.
There was an element of pride at the mess the house was in, with some simultaneous revulsion. It's a lively mess, because we are always busy. I like it as long as it's lively. When it gets stagnant then I get cranky and start to tidy up. There needs to be a process, so we can keep seeing that this is a reflection of how we have chosen to live, this is what the mess represents.
These are not great photos, but they represent something important to me, something specific to me; the splendid dirty funny dance of my only life.
Living is the most important creative process.